Twinkle
by hazeleyes571
Summary: Response to a fic challenge. Fic must include the words 'Have you got something to say, or are you just biting your lip again'


Disclaimer: I do not own this show or any part of it. Characters in Foyle's War were created by Anthony Horowitz and no infringement is intended. This fic is produced for fun and entertainment without profit.

Author: hazeleyes57

Rating: U (lowest rating – free to all)

A/N Response to posted challenge on Foyle's War website, The Quietly Enigmatic Forum. No spoilers involved. The fic had to include the following; 'Have you got something to say..? Or are you chewing on your lip again?'

**Twinkle**

"Grandma! Tommy's taken my doll and hidded it!"

The small blonde whirlwind that had just burst into the kitchen plopped on to one of the chairs at the large table and looked up to see what reaction her statement had caused.

'Grandma' turned from the sink and wiped her hands before reaching for the milk and biscuits that were the standard cure-all for moments of deep distress.

"'Hidden', darling, not 'hidded', and I'm sure that your brother hasn't got your doll; he was in the front parlour with your Grandfather not ten minutes ago, talking about the war, if I'm not mistaken."

Tina managed to convey more than her six years of life experience into the exaggerated roll of her eyes heavenward.

"Not the war again. It's all he wants to talk about. Stupid boy stuff from ages ago."

"Well, from your point of view I suppose thirty years is a long time. It doesn't seem so long ago to us."

Tina briefly looked up from the plate of biscuits, her guileless truth trimmed by a milk moustache.

"Yes, but you're old."

If her grandmother privately thought fifty six was not the great age her grand-daughter thought it was, she did not argue the point.

"Well, thank you for reminding me, I almost forgot."

Tina looked at her Grandma, trying to tell if she was joshing or not. It was not always easy to tell.

"You're welcome."

Tina's hand slid out and snaffled another biscuit. She bit into it quickly before any comment could be made, because, as everyone knows, once you bite into a biscuit, it has to be yours.

"Save some for Thomas and leave room for supper please."

More eye rolling.

"Yes, Grandma."

The kitchen door opened again and another small body launched itself at the table.

"Gosh, wizard biscuits! Just what us chaps need! Gramps tells fibs Grandma he said you got blowd up three times in the war an' everyone knows if you get blowd up you stay blowd up or you lose bits like an arm or a leg or stuff and that's just silly 'cos you have your arms and legs don't you?"

Thomas' tendency to forget the need for both punctuation and breath while speaking usually made him finish his staccato statements with a whoop of inhaled air. Today was no different.

His Grandmother stifled a smile.

"Umm, yes, last time I checked." She paused. "But your grandfather was telling the truth, you know how he feels about fibs."

Two sets of eyes rounded with awe and not a little trepidation.

Thomas, the elder by a year, recovered first.

"You really got blowd up?"

"Yes, I was _blown_ up on more than one occasion, but it all turned out tickety-boo in the end, I was fine."

Tina's lip trembled a little.

"Was Mummy okay?"

"As you said, my lovely, it was a long time ago, before your mummy was even a twinkle in your Grandfather's eye."

Thomas snorted into his milk, his amusement plain even as he coughed. As soon as he could speak, he exclaimed.

"Mummy was a twinkle! Mummy was a twinkle!"

Tina smiled dreamily, ignoring her brother.

"I bet she was a pink twinkle, 'cos she's a girl."

Her Grandmother smiled and nodded as she mopped up the spilt milk.

"Absolutely. Now, off you two go and play."

She gently shooed the children out of the kitchen so that she could start supper.

A few minutes later her husband entered the kitchen. Nearing eighty, he was still upright of bearing, and although he had lost most of his hair, he had lost none of his quiet charm.

He regarded his wife, his head tilted in contemplation. She smiled, knowing him so well.

"Have you got something to say…or are you chewing on your lip again?"

He acknowledged the truth of the comment with a small nod.

"Care to explain why I just had the children pounce on me? Something about wanting to look at the twinkle in my eye?"

"Well, you told Thomas that I had been blown up, and it upset Christina that her mother might have been hurt too. I pointed out that it was before her mummy was a twinkle in your eye."

"Ah, I see. I'm sorry, that never occurred to me. Is she okay? She seemed all right when she was clambering all over her brother to get to me."

He crossed the room and slipped his arms around his wife's waist. She leaned into him, smiling gently, and rested her hands on his chest.

"They're both fine."

"Good. I confess, when they first came in asking about the 'twinkle' I wondered what on Earth you had said to them. Got me quite worried."

He got a poke in the ribs for his troubles.

"You should be worried – that twinkle is still dangerous."

As much as to prove her point than anything else, she kissed him. When they finally broke apart, they saw each other – as always – the way they had seen each other after their first kiss, so long ago.

His smile was tender.

"I say, steady on, Miss Stewart."

She leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"That's Mrs Foyle to you."


End file.
